Saving
by Ceslas
Summary: Continuing the Being Saved meme, five times Jayne and River saved each other.


Second view of Being Saved…

Mischief, beauty, laughter, magic, love.

Mischief

He felt her eyes on him as he worked in the cargo bay shifting crates. They were rearranging things for delivery. Jayne and Mal were shouldering and hoisting shipping crates to ease off-loading. The men were silent in their work; had worked together for enough years that they both knew how the other moved, which end to pick up, which end to pivot. Grunts and occasional Mandarin curses punctuated the labor. Jayne knew she was watching, could feel the pressure of her gaze on the back of his neck. It made him content knowing she was there, she could share with him even when not right next to each other. Her thoughts flowed around them, he could hear her voice whisper observations on Captain Tightpants. Or tease Mal about his inability to see past his own notions of affection. Her giggle tingled at the back of his mind and he smiled. Mal would look at him with a crooked half-grouchy smirk. Knew the big merc was laughing about something, Mal just couldn't figure out what. It made him more irritable as the afternoon's work wore on. By the time dinner was ready, Mal was in a full on grump and Jayne was grinning mischievously from ear to ear. The men didn't engage each other at all, just mutually finished with tying down the cargo and wrapped cables for storage.

Beauty

He would clean his guns at the large dining table, cloth spread out to catch any stray oil. Each part carefully inspected, wiped down and polished to a light sheen. She would be reading, drawing, writing, just _be_ somewhere near. Jayne always waited until after dinner to bring out his guns and work on them. _Serenity _was quieter then, easier to settle in for a few hours and get his girls all set to be put up until next time he needed them. His hands would gently stroke the hard metal, feel the smooth coolness under his calloused fingers. Occasionally he glanced up at River, think how like a perfect weapon she was. The gunmetal under his fingers and her ivory skin both held cool promises. She could explode under his touch as surely as the trigger would yield. Aimed and primed for battle, she would match his every move as he would hers. He had found a partner in a fight like no other. They would fill and empty the spaces between them, her with graceful and swirling artistry, he with brute force, raw power unleashed. Together they formed a more lethal combination than apart. Beauty comes in many forms, theirs was one of power and lightness; both went to the extreme of darkness in their minds, and let it flow out around them to repulse any attackers. Alone together it was the same. They blended in darkness the touch of light.

Laughter

He would wake to her laughing, giggling as she tickled his nose with a feather, or a chopstick, a piece of fabric. Anything to get a reaction. He would swat at her hand, rub his itchy nose and grumble at her about being careless about waking up a killer man like himself like that. She would try to look contrite and apologetic, but would inevitably fail. Her lost youth would come out in these tiny moments where she would tease the big man, tickle him, be silly with him. He would grumble and complain out loud, but inside he was enjoying it. Never had been child-like boy himself, had led his life with no need to be mature neither. Other than his work he lived freely, enjoying his time. Together they teased and touched, wrestled for pillows, shoved to get to the ladder first. There was a playfulness to their interactions that the rest of the crew couldn't fit with their deadly side. Mal would look to Zoë for explanation and she would shrug. The two guns were fighters like neither of then had ever seen. And River would laugh, knowing that only Jayne would understand how they needed the lightness, the laughter to offset the dark and red of deepest night, of the anger and fear they both traveled with in their hearts. They laughed to stay present and together.

Magic

She dreamed of him every night. He was always there in her sleeptime, her bruin. Her sleep was always protected by his presence. Shambling and shuffling through her dreams, sifting her memories in his paws, sniffing them, tongue tasting them. Chuffing at the sweet childhood fantasies, growling low and dangerous at the Academy doctors whose faces were burned into her mind.

Daytime was different, she couldn't see into his thoughts like the others. He kept himself shuttered and close. Without trying she would feel the crew's thoughts as they went about their day. Since Miranda it was easier in that way. There were only those nearby projecting their thinking outwards. When planet side there was the tumult of multitudes. River had learned to extend her own thoughts to Jayne when they went out. His quiet insides balanced the chaos of the people pressing into her mind. He would be her lodestone, a center to ground upon.

Zoë asked many years later what River had found in Jayne that made her feel safe in ways beyond the physical.

"Can't read him, his quiet is complete, lets my own pictures have room, can grow and find peace.. like magic, peace follows the fire, green grows where ashes were spread."

Jayne grunted in assent. Knew she was talking about the dreams, her dreams as she described them to him sometimes. Her sleeptime bear she called him, his _xiao que_ saw him in her dreams, and showed him herself there.

Love

A trickle of crimson drew a line from the corner of Jayne's mouth towards his chin. His head snapped back from the unexpected punch. Mal shook his hand in pain from the direct hit. The big man wiped the blood off with the back of his hand, fixing Mal with a look that would have sent a lesser man scrambling. Mal drew himself up as tall as he could, still a few inches less than the merc. Neither man moved for a beat and then Jayne growled and turned to walk away. Mal grabbed him by the shoulder pulling the big man back around to be met by a fist swinging up from below and catching him across the jaw.

Mal staggered back, hitting the bulkhead in the narrow corridor before coming forward again, reaching with a punch of his own. Jayne ducked and grappled Mal into a bear hug, shoving the captain back forcefully into the wall again. Both men slipped and slid towards the floor, hands scrabbling for a hold, feet trying to gain purchase on the metal grating. An inopportune grab and miss made both the men end up on the floor, a heap of arms and legs.

Jayne laughed first, deep, throaty laughter that Mal couldn't help but join in, his own mirth clear.

"Don't think that solved anything Jayne." Mal managed between chuckles.

"Nope, but it still weren't a bad idea." Jayne was wiping his chin, looking at the blood on his hand.

"Conjure you may be right 'bout that." Mal rubbed his jaw ruefully.

"We done with this then?" Jayne asked, voice light.

"Yup, will be sure to remember this next time I wonder 'bout our Little Albatross and you."

"No sense in pushin' against it Mal. She done told ya where it stands, not gonna be turned from it by you nor me."

"You do right by her then."

"Yeah."

"I am serious Jayne, you don't love her, don't go to tellin' her ya do."

"I ain't gonna lie ta her, means ta much… never thought it would but there it is… yeah, right strange feelin'… may want ta be lettin' that show to 'Nara one a' these days yerself."

The men were walking to the galley as they talked, Mal pulled up behind Jayne at the comment about him and Inara. Gorramnit if the big merc mightn't be right after all… Love.

_xiao que _little bird


End file.
